409 and the Art of Compromise - 1962 Chevrolet Impala

It's a three-speed 1962 Chevrolet Impala sedan because it had to be

Feature Article from Hemmings Muscle Machines

Buying a car is never easy on a husband and wife. We're as enlightened as the next bunch of Stone Age, hairy-chested gear bangers, but we don't think we're going out on a limb if we say that occasionally, men may be more interested in performance than the women who balance the checkbooks. Not all the time, but it does happen. We can prove it, too, because it happened on October 17, 1961, when Lou Philips signed on the dotted line, and put down a $500 deposit for his 1962 Impala.
Lou did what you did in western Pennsylvania when you didn't work in a coal mine--he was a steel worker. On May 28, 1961, however, he wasn't working in the mill, but was about 350 miles due west, spending the last Sunday in May at Indianapolis Motor Speedway, watching A.J. Foyt, Jr., come from seventh place to claim his first victory at the brickyard. Something about A.J.'s 251.9-cu.in. Offy-powered four-cylinder car got to Lou, because he came home determined to get himself some power. We imagine that Don Nicholson's first-place finish in T/S Eliminator at the Winternationals in a 409/409hp Chevy might have factored into the decision.
Power in 1961 meant three numbers: Four, zero and nine. Oh, there was competition, don't get us wrong. Mopar had some juice in the Max Wedge, and no doubt a Super Duty Catalina would get the job done, at least on the drag strip. And if he'd really wanted, maybe Lou could have got hold of a tri-carb V-8 in a full-sized Ford. But no one was writing songs about Galaxies or Custom 880s, and a 300H was almost twice the price. No, for the family man on the go, go, go, it was a trip to the Chevy dealer, or bust.
When the Impala appeared in 1958, it was as a Bel Air trim level, and looked distinctly like a big Bel Air, available only as a Sport Coupe or convertible. As a new top-of-the-line car, the Impala also helped to introduce a new engine, the 348-cu.in. V-8. Later on, this engine architecture would gain another 61 cubic inches... you do the math. The '59s introduced the headlamps-in-the-grille look all Impalas held onto through 1970. The rest of a '59 was... noticeable, with big, fat flat fins and monster half-length jet-and-contrail side spears. It lost the fins, but we admit we're happy Lou didn't end up with a '61, with weird downturned vestigial tailfins and eyebrow front end. We think the '62s the best of them all, with a bulge in the vent window from '61 and a flat, straight body that's all business. But until '61, the 348 was as much engine as you could get, although a "Special Super Turbo-Thrust" high-compression tri-carb version made 335hp. Midway through the year, however, 409 power arrived.
The 375hp, 390-cu.in. Ford V-8 had started to make some dragstrip headway against Chevy, and the 409 began production in January of 1961 as an answer. At first, it was down about 30hp to Ford, and only sold in small numbers, mostly in Super Sport package Impalas. But for '62, new cylinder heads, a hotter cam and a pair of Carter AFB four-barrels gave the optional top engine power to match the displacement. With a four-speed and low gearing, a full-size Impala was almost certainly capable of running well into the 13s at over 100mph. And if you were a racer, you put that engine into a lighter Bel Air and kissed the competition good-bye. Not many people opted for the 409/409 that year--it's thought to be 142, but the next year was a different story.
In 1962, with an improved block, cast alloy heads and bigger valves, the 409, especially when attached to the Super Sport package, sold in droves. Larry Smith, technical advisor for the National Impala Club, says: "From all the research I can do and have done, there were far fewer '62 cars with 409s than most people think. Usually, I have heard the number of 15,000 cars made with the 409 when in reality, from records; it is way less than that. I have found that around 8,900 is actually the production number. It is also assumed that only about 10 percent of that number was the 1x4 engine so that leaves a bunch of 2x4 engines to be put in those cars. Remember, they were installed in any of the big car chassis, from the lowly Biscayne to the upscale Impala SS and all body styles in between."
Nineteen sixty-two also was the year Don Nicholson went two-for-two in a 409 at the Winternationals, and when Lou Philips picked up his car. Maybe he was a big car man to begin with, but with a wife and three kids, he sure was now. We know the three-speed wasn't his first choice: He wanted the four on the floor, and we'd guess a 4.11 to back it up. Lou's wife drew the line there, saying she couldn't shift it. It was an impasse, until Lou settled on the three-speed. We don't know how he talked her into the dual-quad setup, but with RPO 580 (409/380hp single four-barrel) or RPO 587 (409/409), it was a manual only. The 3.36 axle was the only choice with the three-speed.
If you're old enough to remember, this probably isn't the car you think of when you think of a "dual-quad Positraction 409..." Come to think of it, we've left off the words "four-speed," and we're pretty sure it isn't what the Beach Boys were thinking of, either. But people knew it was something unusual. According to Don Fezell, our feature car's current owner, Bill Baierl of Baierl Chevrolet still not only remembers the day that Lou came to pick it up, but also remembers Lou signing the order form on October 17. It was well-known in the area, and Lou took care of it like we'd all dream, driving it ten miles each way to work every day--just enough to get it all the way warmed up--and changing the oil every 2,000 miles. For almost 20 years.
Twenty years of driving sounds like a lot, but do the math: When Lou parked it in 1979, it had under 55,000 miles on it. The kids who had been in mind when he bought it had no interest in a gas-guzzling dinosaur, so it sat. Never mind an original engine and transmission, it sat with every bit of steel it came with, it sat with its original upholstery. It sat with the fan belt that came from the factory. And while it sat, Don Fezell tried to buy it. For ten years, Lou wouldn't budge, but around 1991 he gave into the inevitable.
We've heard some complaints that we've been showing you too many dream cars, but let us tell you right now: If you think Lou got five figures from Fezell for this car, you're dreaming. It wasn't money that bought this car, it was patience, and the time it took to convince Lou the car was going to someone who'd take care of it as well as he did.
Don had it restored by Randy DeLisio (HMM#32, May 2006), whose work on the low-mileage baby was primarily to the body. "It had been sitting outside for ten years," said Fezell, "and in Pennsylvania, that's pretty bad." Fortunately, they were able to save most of the original sheetmetal. That precious 409 was in much better shape, and was essentially disassembled, cleaned and inspected and put back together the way it was. The body was stripped and repainted, and the car rebuilt with a NOS exhaust and date-coded shocks. In fact, everything on the car was put back the way it was supposed to be, all metal, and all NOS parts. Fezell kept it Fawn, and said, "The color is really appropriate for the four-door. It's the sleeper of the whole garage."
In order to catch the sunrise, Fezell and the 409 were waiting for us in the chilly predawn hours. We knew what was under the hood, but to look at it, it just said "family car." But when he fired it up, it was one of those moments that resets your perceptions.
We weren't expecting him to tell us to hop behind the wheel when he did. But we opened the big door, and climbed in. Ahh... that's a seat with all-day comfort. We still say nothing beats a good bench seat for straight-ahead pleasure. Dual-quad setups have a reputation for being finicky, but take a look at those butterflies: This sucker was running right, and started with a soft roar. We managed not to grind 'em, but weren't firing on all eight at that time of night, so we weren't going to take any chances, and didn't try anything fancy. Four hundred-plus horsepower is nice, but at 6,000 rpm, you're not going to see it very often. It's that smooth, deep lake of torque that floats you along. Ask, and a push in the back lets you know there's more there than it would be prudent to explore on cold, damp concrete. If you've ever been around a V-8 inboard boat, you'd recognize the burbling rumble. Open up the secondaries, and it's time to get gone.
Not that it's spooky. We told the good people at DuBois-Jefferson County regional Airport, who loaned us their facility for the morning, that we weren't going to do anything at high speed. But there's something about a ruler-straight and glassy smooth strip of concrete 40 feet wide and 5,000 feet long. This was the drag strip of the gods, and it beckoned.
Fezell wasn't going to do any burnouts in his one-of-one baby, but that didn't mean he could resist the siren's call. He made passes from the far end for the camera...40 mph...50...65...85...we don't know where it topped out, but for sure it could have given the Embraer Bandeir-ante turboprop parked at the end of the field a run, at least through the quarter. Gail Drumm, the National Impala Club's 1963 Impala tech advisor, said, "Top speed with 3.36 gears was redline. Mathematically, and by the seat of my pants, the top speed was 140-142. But the car started getting light after 130."
At speed, there's just a massive whoosh of air to betray its presence, as it plows through the air. On a high-speed run, we were reminded that a properly set-up car on bias tires is nothing to worry about. Straight, smooth and headed for the horizon.
A ten-mile round trip to the airport from Fezell's garage in downtown DuBois told us that country two-lanes are not where it's at. Manual drum brakes and recirculating-ball steering with a 28:1 ratio in a car 17 feet long is not a recipe for what we call fun. Fortunately, there's enough power available that you can adjust the position of the rearend with the throttle. We didn't try it, but the Impala has a reputation for being pretty forgiving, although we don't think too many people were flinging them around without power steering or brakes.
We think it's almost schizophrenic in attitude; happy as a clam cruising all day at high speed, at the same time being the ultimate sedan for the family man with a taste for stoplight action. MotorTrend called the 409 "an utterly brutal sports-luxury machine for the street and highway." In stock trim, they got a two-door with a four-speed and 4.11 gears to 60 in 6.3 seconds, and through the quarter in 14.9 at 98 mph.
Even if you never take it to 6,000 shrieking, roaring rpm, the knowledge is always in the back of your head that the couple of inches of air between your right foot and the floorboard are all that stands between you and instant ecstasy. Not to mention a night in the county lockup.
Lou Philips died a few years ago, but not before he had a chance to see his car restored to the same condition it was in when he drove it home that first time. He must have been able to hear the rumble from the big pipes in his head, and remember the feeling of cruising up to the house in it, the neighbor leaning over the fence in envy as he gave it one more rev than it really needed. We all dream about leaving something meaningful as a legacy, and for those of us who are lucky enough to love cars, we dream about leaving something that has to do with them. We'd like to thank Lou, for leaving behind a car that means something, that's tangible evidence that a family and a nine-to-five can go hand-in-hand with 409hp of Detroit's finest. Lou, this quarter-mile's for you.
Owner's View
"I like this car so much because it's so unusual--it gets as much attention as anything else in my collection. It's a four-door, and people look at it and wonder, 'What's in there?' It's also the most documented car in the collection. It has the original key fob. Lou Philips kept all the paperwork. How unusual is that?"
Fezell is the second owner, and says he was aware of it for years--it was a big car in a small town.
"The most unusual thing was that he kept it all those years, with a family. It meant a lot to him, and it means a lot to me. Aside from [Grumpy Jenkins' Z11] Old Reliable and a couple of lightweights, it's one of my favorite regular cars. It's one of the last cars I'd sell out of my collection. I think that just about says it all."--Don Fezell
PROS
+ Room for the whole family
+ Vrrrroooooomm for the whole family
+ Truly stylish interior
CONS
- You ain't gonna find one
- Fawn-colored trim
- It's a whole lotta car
Club Scene
National Impala Association
PO Box 968
Spearfish, South Dakota 57783-0968www.nationalimpala.com
Dues: $35/year; Membership: 3,000
Vintage Chevrolet Club of America
PO Box 5387
Orange, California 92863-5387www.vcca.org
Dues: $30/year; Membership: 8,000
Price